France -- History -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715 -- Fiction
“Listen, then, Lord Winter. Proceed, sire, I beg. What we are going to
say does not concern your majesty.”
The king, smiling, turned a few steps back.
“This is what I propose to do,” said Athos. “We will divide our
regiments into two squadrons. You will put yourself at the head of the
first. We and his majesty will lead the second. If no obstacle occurs
we will both charge together, force the enemy’s line and throw
ourselves into the Tyne, which we must cross, either by fording or
swimming; if, on the contrary, any repulse should take place, you and
your men must fight to the last man, whilst we and the king proceed on
our road. Once arrived at the brink of the river, should we even find
them three ranks deep, as long as you and your regiment do your duty,
we will look to the rest.”
“To horse!” said Lord Winter.
“To horse!” re-echoed Athos; “everything is arranged and decided.”
“Now, gentlemen,” cried the king, “forward! and rally to the old cry of
France, ‘Montjoy and St. Denis!’ The war cry of England is too often in
the mouths of traitors.”
They mounted—the king on Winter’s horse and Winter on that of the king;
then Winter took his place at the head of the first squadron, and the
king, with Athos on his right and Aramis on his left, at the head of
the second.
The Scotch army stood motionless and silent, seized with shame at sight
of these preparations.
Some of the chieftains left the ranks and broke their swords in two.
“There,” said the king, “that consoles me; they are not all traitors.”
At this moment Winter’s voice was raised with the cry of “Forward!”
The first squadron moved off; the second followed, and descended from
the plateau. A regiment of cuirassiers, nearly equal as to numbers,
issued from behind the hill and came full gallop toward it.
The king pointed this out.
“Sire,” said Athos, “we foresaw this; and if Lord Winter’s men but do
their duty, we are saved, instead of lost.”
At this moment they heard above all the galloping and neighing of the
horses Winter’s voice crying out:
“Sword in hand!”
At these words every sword was drawn, and glittered in the air like
lightning.
“Now, gentlemen,” said the king in his turn, excited by this sight,
“come, gentlemen, sword in hand!”
But Aramis and Athos were the only ones to obey this command and the
king’s example.
“We are betrayed,” said the king in a low voice.
“Wait a moment,” said Athos, “perhaps they do not recognize your
majesty’s voice, and await the order of their captain.”
“Have they not heard that of their colonel? But look! look!” cried the
king, drawing up his horse with a sudden jerk, which threw it on its
haunches, and seizing the bridle of Athos’s horse.
“Ah, cowards! traitors!” screamed Lord Winter, whose voice they heard,
whilst his men, quitting their ranks, dispersed all over the plain.
About fifteen men were ranged around him and awaited the charge of
Cromwell’s cuirassiers.
“Let us go and die with them!” said the king.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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